


Once a Thief

by ZeroTheAngel



Category: Dragon Quest Series, Dragon Quest XI
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Royalty, M/M, Swordfighting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:35:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25346323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZeroTheAngel/pseuds/ZeroTheAngel
Summary: Erik was a criminal, plain and simple. His life consisted of stealing from the rich of Erdrea, and traveling the world with his younger sister, living off their stolen money. The Dundrasil heist should have been so simple. The Prince shouldn't have been there that night. It all went so wrong, so quickly.(An AU exploring a timeline where Dundrasil never fell, and the Luminary Elian lived his life as a prince)
Relationships: Camus | Erik/Hero | Luminary (Dragon Quest XI)
Comments: 26
Kudos: 33





	1. The Dundrasil Job

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DQ11 still has its damn talons in me. I had an idea for Erik and Elian as the prince and the pauper, basically, with Erik stealing from him. Initially, it was gonna be a whole ass fantasy AU, but I just love Erdrea too much as a setting, so I changed it up to be an alternate timeline instead! Hope everyone enjoys!

Dundrasil was the glittering jewel of the east, a kingdom nestled within a natural valley, white stone shining in the noonday sun. The city that sat at the centre of the valley was one of the largest on the continent, elevated up from the small villages and farms that surrounded it, grey brick walls stood tall around the city, a constant reminder of safety and solidarity with those that lived outside the city.

Humming to himself, Erik crossed the small bridge over the moat, connecting Dundrasil City to the valley. Bright cyan hair poked up out from the sash of expensive material wrapped around his forehead, keeping the hair from his face. The climate here was much cooler than the desert, but he was a northern boy at heart, and he had the fortitude to show some skin.

Clad in a black leather crop top, accented with golden clasps, the lower half of his body was covered in baggy beige pants, similarly accented with gold, a loose sash of blue fabric around his waist, a loose silver belt over the top of it. Tucked underneath the cape that kept him a bit better covered; a pair of daggers were secured against the small of his back. He wore two gold bangles around his biceps, then a pair of thinner golden bracelets around his wrists, red thread wrapped around his forearms. He’d been described as ‘extra’ too many times to count, but he really didn’t mind so much. They were right.

“Y’know, if you’d manage to look a little less giddy, you might not get so much attention from the guards.” Erik looked to his side, grin never fading from his lips.

“I have to play the part, don’t I? I’m the glamorous thief, you’re the brains, right?” Mia scoffed. His younger sister, by a few years, his spitting image, dressed a bit more conservatively, her shorts paired with tights to help keep her warm, her usual short white tank top was replaced with a long one, tied off at one side in a knot, her red bolero style jacket covering her shoulders.

“I’m the brains because you’re stupid enough to announce you’re a _thief_ on your way to one of the richest cities in the world.” She whispered the word like a curse, shaking her head. He knew she was just being cautious, which usually meant something had gone wrong considering he was the older, and sometimes wiser of the two.

“Relax, no one’s around, and my contact in the city knows the place well enough. It’s a quick job, in and out, and then we move on.” Erik claimed, letting out a whistle, keeping tune for a few moments until he sighed, breaking the rhythm to look at Mia, her sceptical gaze never leaving his side. “I mean it, we’ll be great.”

“There’s no doubt we’ll be great, it’s whether or not you’ll be great enough not to go to prison before you get anywhere.” She said, nudging his side with her elbow. He chuckled to himself, ruffling the hair that wasn’t tied up in a high braid, eliciting an irritated smack to his arm for the trouble.

“Derk is a trusted friend and informant, relax.” He reiterated, knowing she wouldn’t. Mia was an accomplished thief in her own right, but she was still young, and the idea of her being caught and carted off to a prison somewhere made his stomach churn. He dealt with the heists, Mia helped with logistics and preparations.

“It’s not my job to relax, it’s my job to make sure you don’t get yourself in trouble, remember?” Mia asked, jogging up past the stone bridge they were on, looking around the entrance to the city. It was beautiful, as nice as all the tales and more. Erik tucked his hands into his pockets, peering up at the various buildings surrounding them. The path drove forward to a central part of the city, a large cobbled circle with a fountain at its centre, and beyond that, the path led straight to the gates of the castle.

“I’d never forget it, dear sister.” Erik teased, walking along through the streets. He wasn’t blind to the attention he was receiving, he looked like a rogue plucked straight from a story book from Gallopolis, and the flashes of skin were hardly the fashion in Dundrasil. He was something new, something exciting. It was nice, to have that kind of attention. His work required that no one know it was him that stole from them, so he was hardly going to get any recognition there.

Random onlookers would have to do.

Passing the fountain, Erik and Mia stopped by the corner, avoiding the thoroughfare and the many denizens that charged down it, intent on getting business for the day done and dusted. The building in front of them matched the description Derk had given, fairly quaint, all things considered, chiselled masonry built to last with nicely carved wooden window frames, even some planters hanging from the windows, wildflowers in bloom in a smorgasbord of hues, undeniably inviting.

“This is the place? You sure?” Mia looked unconvinced. Erik wasn’t feeling particularly confident either, the Derk he knew could barely tie the drawstrings of his briefs, let alone arrange flowers.

“It’s where it said to go.” Erik gave a noncommittal shrug and opened the door, the bell situated above tinkling lightly as he stepped inside. The shop was cramped, but almost homely, in a way. Low shelves were lined with various goods, well stocked with medicinal supplies, different goods that most travellers would need on their journey, and a few other household items.

“Hello folks, ‘ow can I…“ The squat man from behind the counter paused mid-sentence, face split into a wide grin. “Erik! And little Mia too, nice to see ya both!” Pleasantries aside, at least on Derk’s end, Erik just shook his head, making his way to the front of the desk.

“What the hell happened to you, Derk? This doesn’t look like your kinda dive.” Erik commented, gazing down critically. Squat with combed back, bushy brown hair, his old associate looked to be living much more comfortably in Dundrasil than he did in Heliodor, going by his clothes, and the subtle plump in his cheeks.

“I’m not little…” Mia grumbled, off to Erik’s side as she perused one of the shelves.

“Well, I could hardly keep operating out of a side alley, could I?” Derk asked, grinning as he waddled out from behind the counter, approaching one of the shelves near the back of the shop. “This more your speed?” The shelf slid off to the side, connected to a set of small metal rails, revealing a doorway obscured by curtains. Pushing them aside, Derk revealed a set of stairs leading down into a speakeasy, connected to an open courtyard, heavy wooden beams keeping the upstairs of Derk’s shop up above the bar. The courtyard was mainly for decoration by the looks of it, a small collection of flowers in a central square planter, stone pathing snaking around the grass, leading to a staircase on the opposite end of the courtyard.

“This definitely looks more what I had in mind.” Erik agreed, stepping down the small flight of steps, the scent of ale and smoke fostering a warm sense of _home_. He saw Mia scurry off towards the bar, rolling his eyes. “Mia, you’ve got another two years before I even _think_ about letting you near alcohol.” Erik called over, garnering some attention from the various patrons of Derk’s little hole in the wall.

“Ugh, fine. I guess I’ll go admire the flowers.” Mia muttered, gesturing over to the courtyard before slinking off, approaching the small square to grumble to herself.

“Get yourself a drink and take a seat Erik, I’ll be with you soon.” Derk assured, patting his back before bustling back up the stairs into the shop. From what Erik knew, alcohol wasn’t prohibited in the kingdom of Dundrasil, but Derk wasn’t the kind of person to only be running a bar on the side. Back in Heliodor, he had connections to the kingdom’s underworld, and Derk wasn’t the type to give that up.

After getting himself a mug of ale, Erik settled into his seat with a comfortable sigh, looking over to the staircase that led up out of the courtyard. By the looks of the building it was attached to, the staircase led up into an inn of some description. It’d make sense, maximise business for any other ne’er-do-wells that were travelling through Dundrasil, pick up some travel supplies, get yourself a drink and any information you needed about your work, and then head on up the stairs for forty winks.

Derk arrived back into the speakeasy, dropping himself down into the chair.

“Long time no see Derk, looks like life in Dundrasil is treating you well.” Erik commented, taking a quick sip of his drink.

“You could say that.” Derk agreed, grinning a little. “You uh, got out alright?” He asked, sheepish.

“No thanks to you.” Erik said, shaking his head. It was all in the past, if he had wanted revenge on Derk for leaving him in a mess, he’d have introduced himself with his daggers. And besides, getting left behind had the added benefit of Derk being a guilty fuck, and more willing to help out and keep on his good side.

“I really am sorry about that Erik, you know that right?” Derk asked, looking more optimistic than Erik would’ve been in this situation.

“Gotta look out for number one, huh?” Erik asked, pushing a smile forward. He really didn’t feel like smiling at Derk right now, any assurance the other man needed wasn’t his problem, but if it made his life easier, he’d play the part. “You can get closer to my forgiveness by helping me with this damn heist.” Erik said.

“Hey, keep your voice down.” Derk muttered. “These lot may be criminals too, but never trust ‘em further than you could throw ‘em. This heist is yours alone, doubt any of these chucklefucks could pull it off.” He said, gesturing around, before tucking his hand into his pocket, pulling out a folded square of parchment.

“I’ll keep it in mind.” Erik drawled out, gesturing for Derk to get started.

Unfolding the paper, Erik was met with plans for a building, sprawling and elaborate, but with a clear progression between rooms. A castle.

“You’re absolutely sure you’re up for this?” Derk asked, and was met with a simple nod. “Alright, well, King Erwin, in his everlasting radiance, is away on business, back in Heliodor if I’ve heard right. And I’ve definitely heard right.” Derk assured, pointing one chubby finger down against the paper, a square room at the end of twisting corridors. The treasury.

“And his castle is only staffed by his usual contingent of guards, right?” Erik asked, smiling to himself. A heist on a royal palace wasn’t new for him, but he’d never been to Dundrasil before, a nice change of pace.

“Right on the money. The royal family is away for the foreseeable, and the guards are understaffed right now, most went with the family.” Derk told him. Erik took another sip of his drink, smile widening. He studied the map briefly, before nodding to himself.

“Perfect. That makes life a little easier.” Erik agreed, folding the paper up again. “This is definitely on the road to you making things up to me.” Erik said, grinning. He finished off his mug, pushing up from the seat behind him, tucking the paper away. As much as he fondly missed the scent of smoke and the burn of ale against his throat, he needed time to get prepared, and if he stuck around, he’d hardly be ready for a heist by nightfall.

“I’ll keep it up, best I can.” Derk assured, waving him off as he passed. Mia was sat against the edge of the stone planter, brushing her finger under one of the petals. He sighed softly, hating the fact that he had to drag her with him on this. He knew that she loved it as much as he did, but she deserved so much better than being stuck in this life. She was still young.

“Finally done with short, pale and ugly over there?” Mia asked, crossing her arms over her chest. Still young, and more than feisty enough to hold her own. She was probably fine.

“Come on, he’s not that bad.” Erik said, shaking his head.

“He’s a good guy, just not my type. You?” Mia quizzed, grinning.

“You’re not old enough to have a type, now behave.” Erik said, gesturing up towards the staircase. “And besides, he’s frankly too straight for my tastes. And not tall enough.” Erik added, grinning back as he jogged up the steps, with Mia following swiftly behind him.

Using his considerable charm, and with the inn proprietress’ lack of interest due to where he’d popped up from, he secured them both a room with relative ease. He assumed that the partnership between her and Derk was a begrudging one at best. She got more foot traffic, even if it was from criminals.

Hours passed and Erik and Mia took the time to explore Dundrasil, buying a variety of goods with their ill-gotten gains, purchasing new clothes and supplies for their journey. Erik took his time to study the map Derk had supplied, learning every nook and cranny of the building he was going to be breaking into.

Night fell on Dundrasil, and the bright light of the sun was replaced by the warm glow of streetlights, flames encased in glass, ever burning oil set alight with practiced ease. The city was beautiful, and even without the prospect of a pay-out, Erik would’ve been tempted to stick around. He hopped up, feet finding purchase on the metal rails of his balcony, balancing with nary a wobble, crouching down to peer out over the rooftops, one hand down against the railings in case Mia felt inclined towards fratricide while he was focusing.

“In and out, you promised.” Mia’s voice drifted past the open door to his back. The inviting warmth of the inn room cascaded down against his back, much more enticing than the cool chill of Dundrasil’s night. Too many times, he’d been tempted to just hang it all up, make an honest living somewhere warm.

The idea never stuck. What could he offer to the world? Another pretty face wasting away behind a counter, selling up to the rich? Fuck that, being a thief was what he did best, and he’d live by his blades, or die holding them.

“I did. I keep my promises, remember?” Erik asked, glancing back. She didn’t look happy, and he couldn’t even dredge up the effort to feign offence.

“I know you do.” Her voice was quieter now, sighing softly. She pulled her hair from its braid, something he’d been forced to learn ever since Mia had seen a noble woman in Heliodor wearing the style. You’d think stealing her necklace would’ve been enough?

“Mia, the score from tonight is gonna keep us fed for months, and more than enough to travel, find somewhere with a nice view and simple idiots wandering around wearing their wealth on their shirts. No more big heists for a while.” Erik knew it was what she wanted to hear, but she knew that too. She looked sceptical, her favourite resting face, but nodded.

“Puerto Valor?” She asked, a hopeful smile on her face.

“You really do love the beach, huh? Sniflheim fucked something up with you, I swear it.” Erik hummed, grinning as she flipped him off. That was better. “Don’t wait up, alright kiddo?” He straightened up, swinging his arms at his sides a few times before leaping, the momentum helping him to clear the gap between the balcony and the neighbouring building.

He knew she wouldn’t listen.

Dundrasil City was remarkably tight knit, it put Heliodor’s bustling streets to shame, and it worked perfectly him. Hopping from rooftop to rooftop was a simple enough feat, requiring a bit of know how and a fuck ton of confidence; luckily, he had that last one in troves. The castle had a winding pathway leading up to the front gates, up on a higher plateau than the rest of the city, with the rest of the moat from the front of the city snaking around the back to block entry by foot.

Reaching the building nearest the edge of the circle, he scoured the rooftop for a moment before finding a small box emblazoned with a mark Erik recognized all too well, a Heliodorian calling card left by most thieves that conducted themselves in the underworld activities in that region of the world. Cracking it open, he hefted out the iron, tri pronged hook, a bundle of rope attached to the end.

Derk really trusted his throwing arm.

The building he was on was the closest to the moat, and closest to the edge of Dundrasil Castle’s grounds. Holding the hook up by the rope, Erik twirled it a few times, letting it build up some momentum, eyes narrowing as he scanned the rocky face of the cliffs, finally spotting what Derk had mentioned in his letters. A cluster of brickwork, falling into disrepair near the edge of the grounds, outside the walls that kept Dundrasil’s finest cosy and safe. It’d do for an anchor point.

Erik nodded to himself, trusting in his aim as best he could as he launched the iron hook, watching it sail through the midnight sky. Glinting with moonlight, it rattled through the air, landing with a muted thud in the grass behind the masonry. He breathed out, slowly reeling the rope back until he met resistance. He tugged a few more times, just to be sure, before nodding to himself. Moment of truth.

Taking a bundle of the rope in his arm, he moved to the opposite end of the roof. He blew out a soft puff of air, before breaking out into a sprint. After leaping free from the building there was one, terrifying second where his brain panicked. Being in the air, with a rockface looming ahead, panic was a fair emotion.

Outstretching his spare hand, his fingertips glowed. An orange circle of magical runes cemented themselves into the quickly approaching cliff, and with some deft movement, rocks shot out the side of the stone, silent as possible given the circumstances. Using the upward angle, he skidded down the magical rocks, using the friction to slow his approach, absorbing some of the impact in his knees. He grunted, tugging the rope downward. It held.

The rocks below him crumbled, and before they fell harmlessly into the moat below, he was already scaling the side of the cliff. One foot after the other, he pulled himself up, thanking Yggdrasil that the remnants of what looked like a well was holding. After finally hefting himself up over the edge, he kept to a low crouch, eyes scanning the surroundings.

Derk had told him that the guard patrols changed every night, so he wouldn’t get any help with those, but he knew for a fact the outer wall wasn’t as well protected with most of the guards away with the royal family. With deft and near silent footsteps, he reached the edge of the wall, moving his way around the edge until he found the intersection between the frontwards curved wall and the solid wall that encircled the castle. The various cracks in the time weathered walls gave him enough purchase to scale the walls, with some difficulty, but he was up and over in a few moments.

Ducking under a section of the wall, he avoided the watchful gaze of a single guard, dressed in the livery of Dundrasil, armour gleaming almost white in the moonlight. After a few moments, he heard the echoing clang of metal sabatons on chiselled stone. Erik quickly hopped his way over the parapets, landing safely in the gardens below. Erik smiled to himself, shrouded in shrubbery as he approached the edge.

A cursory glance around proved that he was alone in the garden, but he still exercised caution, skirting the edge of the enclosed flower garden towards a nearby door. The castle was in darkness, the perfect cover. The handle curved downwards, and with a gentle click, he was in. He was gentle when he closed the glass door behind him, moving down the corridor that was connected to the garden, passing tall windows that gave him a glimpse outside, at a variety of flowers covered in a soft lunar glow.

Erik found himself in a large open room, near the centre of the castle. A wide chamber, with two corridors leading south, and towards the main entrance of the castle. Two similar corridors went north, to the throne room if he remembered correctly. He’d arrived down the eastern corridor which lead to the gardens and kitchens, while the western corridor across from him sprawled out towards the other side of the gardens. It also led to a set of stairs going down towards the treasury room.

The room was way too opulent for his liking, shiny plaques and golden frames holding beautiful paintings within them. Two large steel suits of armour stood flanking a staircase that led up to the top floor of the castle, stalwart silent defenders that looked eerily alive. Erik shook the thought away.

In and out, easy.

“Ahem?” He’d turned around, failed to notice the figure at the top of the stairs. He whirled around, hands rushing to the hilts of his blades on the small of his back, eyes focusing on the other man.

“Who are you?” Erik asked, wanting to immediately melt into the ground when he asked that. It was the stupidest thing he could’ve asked. The stranger descended the stairs, graceful but determined. Erik backed up quickly, though he didn’t turn and run. He wasn’t going to lose face here.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that? You broke in after all.” The man pointed out, smile breaking past his calm demeanour. It was striking, Erik didn’t often notice it in many people, but he was beautiful. A simple kind of beauty in which, it seemed he didn’t even have to try.

His eyes were light blue, focused on Erik himself as he moved, peachy soft skin, without a single blemish in sight. His hair was chestnut brown, cascading down to his shoulders like silk, some of the strands tucked behind his right ear. His clothing was undeniably royal, silken black slacks, and a simple white tunic, a few buttons undone at the top. He’d never seen clothing look so understated yet so obviously expensive.

“I was told the royal family would be away tonight. What are you? The kings side piece?” Erik asked, a dangerous grin on his face as he rubbed his fingers along the hilts. Pretty or not, it wouldn’t stop him from achieving his goals.

“Oh, gross. I’m his _son_ , thank you very much.” The young man admonished, stopping at the foot of the stairs. Even with his face scrunched up in disgust, he was infuriatingly pretty. “I’m a little too old to be carted around on family trips all the time, so I decided to stay here.” Prince… Something. He wasn’t up to date on various royals. The fact the prince was treating this like a casual conversation rather than a home invasion was slightly aggravating, but he pushed past it.

“Doesn’t really matter who you are, I’m taking what I want from your vault, so you’d be better off going back to bed, got that?” Erik asked, finally drawing his daggers. The blade on his left glinted, the long stretch of lunar light that clawed outwards from the window had reached him, highlighting him where he stood.

“Oh really?” The prince asked, before glancing aside. He smiled, reaching for the sheath hanging from the nearby suit of armour. With a shrill screech of steel on steel, a rapier had been wrenched free. He pointed the blade outwards towards Erik, confidence exuding from his stance, prim and proper but with a curious edge to it. He knew how to stand like a warrior. “I’d like to see you try.”

Erik brought his blades up into a defensive position as the prince lunged forward. Holding them in a cross pattern, he flung them upwards to deflect the incoming pierce, circling the royal in the hopes of catching him off guard. No luck.

With practiced grace, the prince brought his blade up to deflect Erik’s incoming strike. Shrugging it off, he stepped out of Erik’s reach, stretching his arm out to bite at Erik’s personal space with the glinting edge of the rapier. Erik rolled past the incoming attack and did his best to shoulder forward in an attempt to knock the other man off balance.

Infuriatingly, the prince side stepped it, having the gall to tap Erik on the arse with the flat of his sword. He whirled around again, flipping his daggers into a reverse hold. This fight was less like a fight to the death, and more like a waltz. For every lunge and slice they did against each other, the person on the defence would easily step out of the attack.

Erik was getting irritated by the wishy-washy fight, he was always taught to finish combat as fast as possible, never give your opponent a chance to survive longer than necessary. He wasn’t eager to hurt the prince, by any means, but if this kept going, he’d be in much more trouble than this. As he lunged forward, Erik hooked his arm around the sword, hitting the end of the blade with his elbow to wrench it free of the man’s grasp.

With the blade clattering across the ground, Erik took his chance to lurch forward, blade outstretched. He didn’t want to hurt the prince, it was clear in his stance, in his attack, it was weak and didn’t have any conviction behind it, but despite that, panic flashed in the other man’s eyes. He held his hand up to his chest, showing off a curious brand on the back of his hand that Erik had failed to notice during the fight. A sudden flash of blinding light sent him stumbling back for a moment.

Erik panted softly, rubbing at his eyes, dazed and confused.

“Prince Elian!” A guard, a few corridors away at least. He was fucked. In moments, the prince, Elian, was in front of him. He expected a punch, or even a stab, a way to ensure he didn’t scarper.

He didn’t expect lips, soft and urgent, a hand bracing against his cheek. Erik’s eyes stayed wide, his confusion deepening. Elian pulled away from him, smiling.

“You should get out of here, that corridor leads to the gardens.” Elian said, gesturing to the western corridor.

“I…” Erik was lost, and really was starting to think he’d been skewered by the prince, and this was all just a fever dream while he bled out.

“Go, now!” Elian urged him off, and his feet obeyed, rushing down the corridor before the guard could see him. He heard Elian explaining away the noise and the flash, skidding to a stop at the doors out into the garden. The staircase leading down to the treasury was close. So close. He sighed, shaking his head as he got back out into the chill of the night. It was darker now, clouds drifting past the full moon that had managed to give him some sight in the gloom.

He had to leave now, or else he risked getting caught. He scaled the wall quickly, crossing it quickly, with luck on his side that the guard from earlier wasn’t still patrolling. He slid down the side of the wall, breathing out a sigh of relief. The grappling hook was still secure. He hefted it up out of its lodged position in the remnants of the wall, looking back towards the castle. He’d been on autopilot for the past few moments, making his way out of the castle, but with time to breathe, one resounding question kept playing in his head.

What the _fuck_ just happened?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go again! This fic could be real short, could rival 'In a Time of Peace', I'm really not sure just yet, I just knew I had to get it written down!


	2. An Arrangement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The more I write this AU, the more I fall in love with it, oh god help me lmao hopefully everyone enjoys this chapter, I wrote it in a bit of a whirlwind of inspiration, and I had a lot of fun with it c:

Erik rested his chin in the palm of his hand, eyes peering out the window he was perched next to. The citizens of Dundrasil went about their business, unaware of his lethargic gaze, picking out various events that were likely inane or completely forgettable to those that did them. Returning a dropped bangle to someone in a hurry, a friendly greeting to a market stall attendant, two people stopping and stepping off to the side to catch up, a brief respite from their business for the day. Erik’s livelihood revolved around watching people, ensuring he could pick apart their worth, and the best approach he could take to rinse them of what they were carrying.

“… Are you even listening to me?”

Ah, that.

Erik sighed, looking over his shoulder. Mia looked one more stroke of bad luck away from a breakdown.

“Of course I am.” Erik said unconvincingly, looking back out the window.

“No, you fucking aren’t.” She almost snarled out, stamping her foot down to elicit his attention again. He sighed, looking back, gesturing his hand towards her as if telling her to repeat herself. He was playing a dangerous game, but it was too early for him to care. “We have to leave.” She reiterated, barely containing the anger he could see brimming beneath the surface.

“No, we don’t. We’re fine.” Erik assured, for at least the fourth time this morning.

“You failed to get to the vault, we can’t risk another go.” Mia said, shaking her head. “Who saw you?” She asked, for at least the fourth time this morning.

“Does it really matter? Someone saw me, that’s enough.” Erik said, unwilling to admit that the crown prince of Dundrasil was still around, and had bested him with what seemed like, little effort on his part. Whether it was pride, or a desire to avoid Mia’s meltdown, he wasn’t sure.

“Of course it matters, they could be sending a bunch of guards to come cart you off!” Mia exclaimed, reaching up to pinch the bridge of her nose. He knew Mia was just doing her best, but he couldn’t explain to her that the prince of Dundrasil gave him a quick peck on the lips after beating him in a fight and let him escape. She’d call him insane, and he’d be hard pressed to disagree. The events of last night were still not sitting quite right with him, feeling closer to a bizarre dream than anything else.

“They would’ve come find me last night if they were, no one is coming to find us.” Erik assured. A knock on the door sounded from across the room, and they both froze.

“Oi, Erik, Mia, open up!” Derk.

Erik heaved out a sigh, and Mia slumped a little, letting free some of the tension in her shoulders as she moved over to the door, swinging it open. Derk stepped in, thanking her quickly. He rubbed his hands together, looking to Erik with expectant eyes.

“You have some fucking nerve.” Erik said as he stood, striding across the creaky wooden floor, prodding a finger into the soft plush of Derk’s chest, eyes narrowed.

“’Ey, what the hell are you on about?” He asked, slapping Erik’s hand away, squaring up as best he could. Erik was at least a head taller than the squat former criminal, who looked ready to dust off his old, subpar brawling skills.

“The royal family is away on business, you told me. Was that supposed to include the prince?” Erik quizzed; eyes still narrowed. He could practically see the cogs turning behind Derk’s pallid face, eyes widening once he’d realized the implications of Erik’s words.

“No, he couldn’t be…” Derk started.

“Well, he fucking was!” Erik refrained from smacking the other man, noticing that Mia had pieced it together too.

“The _prince_ saw you? That’s it, we’re leaving, now.” Mia stated, her tone conveying how little she was messing around.

“I swear Erik, I had no idea, I wouldn’t have shown up here this morning if I was tryin’ to dob you in!” Derk defended, while Erik flexed his patience, making a concerted effort not to shut Derik up.

Another knock at the door, and this time Mia let out a half ways scream, quickly clamping her hands over her mouth. Derk almost jumped out of his skin, and that was better than a punch to the jaw in Erik’s opinion, eyes shifting to the door. No one else knew they were here.

He stepped around Derk, moving to open the door.

Stood out in the hall, dressed in what looked like a purple travelling tunic and dark grey breeches with a pair of heavy boots, Elian stood, hands clasped together in a greeting.

“Hello again.” He spoke amicably enough, bowing a little.

“We’re fucked.” He could vaguely hear Mia, accompanied by the impact of a body flopping onto a bed.

“How did you find me?” Erik asked.

“Well, you aren’t exactly the most inconspicuous person. You have quite the get up, bright blue hair, and you came to rob me without wearing a mask, or changing your outfit.” Elian gestured forward to the outfit he had been in the midst of putting on when Mia started ranting, the scarf that usually wrapped around his head, plus the cape and bangles that adorned his arms, were all laying on his bed.

“ _So_ fucked…” Muffled by the pillow in front of her face, Mia had just reached meltdown. He was pretty sure Derk was trying unsuccessfully to melt into the scenery behind him.

“So, what now?” Erik asked. He wasn’t going to give Elian the satisfaction of watching him beg for his life.

“Perhaps we should talk, privately?” Elian suggested, gesturing behind him, towards a doorway that led out onto a balcony that overlooked the street. Off to the left, down the hallway towards the staircase, he caught a glint of light. Armour. He sighed, nodding.

“Fine.” Erik agreed, looking back to Derk, giving him a warning look, and he nodded simply, understanding the implication. If he wasn’t back soon, take Mia and go. He closed the door behind him, following Elian out onto the balcony. “So…” Erik muttered, gesturing around.

“I should introduce myself, I’m Elian.” He stuck his hand out, and Erik eyed it warily, deciding not to take him up on the offer. “Right… Apologies for this being so awkward.” He said with a sheepish chuckle, leaning back against the railing, hand dropping down, playing with one of the long strips of purple leather that hung down over his thighs, squeezing it between his fingers. A nervous action. What the hell did he have to be nervous about?

“… Erik.” He introduced himself a touch less politely, much more cautiously, and instead crossed his arms over his chest. “If you’re here to arrest me, you really didn’t have to come do it yourself, just get it over with.” Erik said, studying Elian’s face.

“Arrest you? I have no intentions of having you arrested, you or your… Associates.” Elian phrased it delicately, likely knowing Mia was his sister, and probably knowing Derk through business. Derk may have been a useless crook, but he seemed to be pretty damn good at running a business.

“Why wouldn’t you?” Erik asked warily. He’d had various encounters with rich bastards with alternatives to prison that made a small, damp cell look attractive.

“Truthfully?” Elian asked, smiling a little. “Last night was the most exhilarating thing I’ve experienced in at least a decade.” He said excitedly, eyes twinkling with genuine wonder. Erik really didn’t know what this guys problem was, but if he found a home invasion thrilling, he had some issues.

“Exhilarating, you sure?” He asked cautiously.

“For the first time in years, I got to fight someone who wasn’t my swordsmanship instructor. I got to speak to someone that wasn’t a foreign dignitary, or an important citizen from Dundrasil. I got to have fun!” Elian exclaimed.

“I was trying to _rob_ you.” Erik laid it out flat, in the hopes that this Elian guy wasn’t completely mad.

“But you didn’t. You could hear me telling my guards that nothing happened, and I sent you in the direction of the vault.” Elian pointed out, and Erik found himself at a loss for words. He was right. Something in his gut told him to risk it last night, to break into the vault even after his encounter, but he didn’t.

“You kissed me, messed with my head.” Erik defended, though it was a weak defence, all things considered. It certainly wasn’t the reason he had stopped.

“Oh, that…” Elian looked bashful, and if he wasn’t so tense and on guard, he would’ve teased the prince. Even in more common gear, the type you’d see on someone travelling the world, he was pretty. Soft skin, pert pink lips, and sparkling blue eyes. It was almost unfair that he was a prince on top of all that. “I really wanted to apologize about that, it was very inappropriate of me.” Elian bowed slightly, a sign of respect, apologetically put across.

“Listen, it’s fine, just stop with that stuck up shit, no need to bow to me, I’m a thief remember.” He pointed out, and despite the fact that Elian relaxed a touch, he still looked apprehensive.

“That doesn’t mean you aren’t deserving of respect.” Elian said, and it was almost like a punch to the gut. It was almost laughable, the idea that a prince, so disconnected from life in general, was telling him he still deserved respect.

“Whatever you say.” Erik breezed past it, moving to stand next to Elian, looking over the balcony. “Alright, so you’re not gonna arrest me… What exactly are you doing here then?” Erik asked.

“I’ve come to ask a favour.” Elian admitted, still leaning back against the railing, putting more weight on the arm closest to Erik, leaning closer so he could talk under the wind.

Their eyes met for a moment, and Erik’s mind raced. His posture, his positioning, the kiss last night, the way his eyes gave Erik so much undivided attention. It clicked. Before Elian could actually speak, to tell him Erik what this favour was, he’d put two and two together.

He pushed off from the railings and moved to stand in front of Elian. “Alright, but if you were any uglier, I’d prefer prison.” Erik said, smirking a little as he dropped into a squat in front of Elian, one hand darting out to scoop around the back of his thigh, while his other hand slid up the front, ghosting over the prince’s crotch, enough to get a feel for what the other man was working with. Very nice.

“What are you doing?!” Elian’s voice had cracked, pushing as far back against the railing as he could, avoiding Erik’s wandering hands. His eyes widened as he looked up, seeing Elian’s face. He was covered in a blush so crimson he might as well have turned tomato. His hands shot up to cover his face, burying himself into his palms. “That is _not_ what I was going to ask you to do!” He exclaimed.

Erik stumbled back a little, hand releasing Elian’s thigh as he fell back onto his arse, groaning a little. “By Yggdrasil… I’m an idiot.” Erik dragged his hands down his face. Well, if he wasn’t going to prison before, he was now.

Then laughter, light and amused, muffled by Elian’s hand. He could barely hold himself back, and it sent Erik into laughter too. And with that, some tension melted away. Nothing like groping a prince to break the ice.

After a few moments, Elian seemed to compose himself, clearing his throat as he reached out, offering his hand to Erik. He accepted, and pulled himself up, not failing to notice how strong the prince was, this swordsmanship trainer must be a damn demon.

“Feeling alright?” Elian asked, offering up a kind smile, which Erik managed to return, even if he was still a little wary.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He assured, chuckling a little. “So, uh… Your favour?” He asked awkwardly, scratching the back of his head.

“Oh, right! I’d like you to stay in Dundrasil for a little while longer. I really did enjoy seeing you yesterday, even if your intentions weren’t exactly nice.” He said, smiling a little. “I don’t have any friends, or at least, no proper friends, that live here. You have no idea how lonely that palace is.” He was sombre for a moment, and Erik almost didn’t criticise him for it.

“There are worse places to feel lonely. Try the streets for a start.” Erik gestured out to Dundrasil.

“I know. I know I don’t really have the right to complain, I’m far luckier than most, but it’s still lonely.” Elian defended, tucking some of his hair over his right ear.

Erik sighed. He was really doing his best to figure out how to tell Elian no. If he told Mia they were staying in Dundrasil for a few more days, or however long Elian expected him to stick around for.

“I’m a thief, Elian. I don’t think it’d be that appropriate for me to come visiting for a play date.” Erik pointed out, hoping to dissuade Elian on this idea. He really didn’t want to stop Elian, because the more time he spent in the strange prince’s company, the more he was tempted to actually take him up on the offer.

“No one at the castle has to know that.” Elian pointed out, resting a hand on his hip. “In fact, I could just tell people you’re a travelling diplomat.” Elian offered.

“Do I _look_ like a diplomat to you?” Erik asked, grinning a little.

“No, not really. But with the outfit, and maybe a bit more of a tan, you could pass as a travelling Gallopolian of high regard.” Elian offered, smiling a little.

“Yeah, well I really don’t want to try the accent, so I think I’ll avoid that.” Erik responded dryly, looking out over the city.

“Then… Sniflheim, that’s your accent, right? And a little mix of something else.” Elian hummed, tapping his chin in thought. He was right, something that surprised Elian a touch, his time with the Vikings as a kid did a number on his accent, and he never quite recognized it when he heard another from Sniflheim speak.

“Your ears work, congratulations.” Erik said with a light smile, noticing the amused smile Elian wore. “Alright, fine, I’ll stick around for a little while longer, as long as I’m not pretending to be some socialite.” Erik bartered, watching Elian.

He seemed to mull it over for a moment, thinking to himself. “A combat instructor? You were quite good with your knives; I’d love to learn from you.” Elian offered. The hopeful glint in his eyes was almost impossible to turn down, so he let out a theatrical sigh.

“I can make that work. So, this whole situation, you just want a friend?” Erik asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, you make it sound silly when you put it like that.” Elian murmured, pushing off from the railing, moving towards the door. “But yes, I would like a friend. You’re the only one in so long, who’s spoken to me like I’m just a person.” Elian said, turning back to look at him. Erik smiled a little, and nodded. For now, he’d accept. Mia wouldn’t like it, but what the young man in front of him was giving him, was uninterrupted access to Dundrasil’s palace. Even Mia couldn’t deny that.

“Alright, well deal. And hey, don’t worry about the kiss last night. We’ve both done something stupid and inappropriate, huh?” He asked, seeing the faint blush on Elian’s cheeks redden a touch. He nodded, leaving a murmured thanks in his wake as he left the balcony, moving down the hall.

Erik leant back, letting out a relieved sigh. Avoided prison yet again, not bad.

After a few moments, Erik returned to the room he’d hired for himself and Mia, half expecting them to have fled, or Mia to have beaten the shit out of Derk at the very least. Said sister propped her head up from her place on the bed, eyes searching his for bad news. Derk was cradling his face in his hands, no doubt contemplating all the nice comforts he was going to lose while trapped in a cell.

“Everything went… Well?” Mia asked tentatively, reading the room well, a trick she’d picked up on their travels.

“I,” He paused, struggling to actually come to terms with the words he was about to say. “Am now, Prince Elian’s friend and combat coach…” Erik said, garnering two pairs of incredulous eyes, boring holes through him. “Also tried to suck him off. Misread the situation.” He said with a light-hearted shrug, which damn near almost killed Mia.

After she recovered from almost collapsing, and Derk’s spluttering quietened down, she sat up, looking him in the eyes. “How long are we staying here?” She asked, frown set on her face like a permanent feature.

“I’m not sure. Not long, hopefully. But this does give me access to the vaults again, if need be, I can cut my losses and grab what we need.” He offered. The idea of stealing from King Erwin felt odd now, it’d be stealing from Elian. The young man seemed so earnest about them being friends, that it made him take pause. He was sure that’d pass.

“I guess it can’t hurt to stick around for a little while.” Mia stressed the idea of it being a short stay, before flopping back onto the bed, sighing.

Erik looked over to Derk, who looked as if he was trying to find words to put together a thought that was giving him a serious headache. “What is it Derk?” Erik asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I just don’t get why Prince Elian would need ya as a combat anythin’, he’s the bleedin’ Luminary after all!” Derk said, still looking just as confused as before he came up with the words.

Erik and Mia exchanged a look, before Erik settled his eyes back on the other man.

“What the hell is a Luminary?”

~

“Is all your business in order, young Lord?” The voice jolted him out of his thoughts. It came from the knight he most often felt on his right, a strapping young man who rarely removed his helmet, a dusting of blonde stubble covering his jaw and up his cheek the only real indication of his actual hair colour, and soft brown eyes, seen through the slits in his helmet that obscured the top half of his face.

“Yes, that’s me done for the day. Back to the castle.” Elian assured. He had somehow convinced his entourage to remain by the stairs while he spoke with Erik, and thankfully so. Almost receiving a blowjob from a stranger while his armed guards stood right outside the door would have been even more mortifying than it already was.

“As you wish, Prince Elian.” The second of his guardians, a young woman with wispy brown hair tucked into a bun under her helmet, her olive skin contrasted with the lightness of the livery she wore. Both of them had protected him since he was a child, since he knew what he was. Many said his gift was an invitation of disaster, but the prophesised evil had never reared its ugly head, but despite that, he was trained, and protected. If it ever did come, he would be ready.

He descended the stairs with his entourage, thanking the inn proprietress for her help and her time, complimenting her inn as he left. Both of his guardians kept a close distance without crowding him, the subtle metal clink against stone was an accompanying sound he’d grown accustomed to wherever he went. As they climbed the stairs that led to the palace, Elian began to think.

He was relieved that Erik had promised to stay, but he wasn’t naïve. He knew he was a thief, and he knew that was risky. If something were to happen, his parents _would_ find out, and they wouldn’t be happy. He didn’t know why he was so adamant that he become friends with Erik. He was unsure if they would have anything in common. In fact, he was quite sure they’d have very little in common.

Appearance was a factor, no doubt. The kiss hadn’t been a play to try and confuse Erik, it had been a gross error of judgement on his part, something he couldn’t control, and regretted deeply. Erik groping him eased some of that regret, at least he hadn’t thrown himself at someone with absolutely no interest, he hoped anyway. He was a very attractive man, his hair was striking, his face was near perfect in Elian’s eyes, the little self-confident smirk Erik would do when he was amused, or thought he knew something someone else didn’t, he couldn’t help but be drawn to it.

But appearance wasn’t the crux of the issue, Elian truly did just want to spend time with someone who didn’t care who he was. Rich. A prince.

A so-called hero.

Erik treated him like any other person he’s ever met, he didn’t care, and that feeling, of being treated like an equal, as just another person, was so cathartic Elian felt he could sob. He was so smothered by expectation, by the varying layers of etiquette and primness, that he felt he couldn’t even hug his parents without bowing first, and requesting an audience. None of this was their fault, of course, and he wouldn’t try and put it on them, but he just didn’t know how to broach the subject, to talk about this kind of loneliness. No doubt, they knew how it felt too. But they had each other.

“Young Lord, we are here.” He blinked away his thoughts, looking aside at his blonde guardian, his brown eyes narrowed slightly. Concern. He’d come to learn how to read his moods and intentions despite his often-impassive face.

“Yes, I see. Sorry, Right.” Elian said softly, walking past the gates. Once he was within the grounds, Right and Left waited for the gates to shut, before dispersing, going about their duties in the castle.

As guardians of the Luminary, both of his bodyguards had bound themselves to him, but had families, people they once cared about. When King Erwin had recruited them, he had given them both roles, as Elian’s right hand, and his left, and used those monikers to protect their identities. Elian appreciated their service, and their sacrifice to serve him unwaveringly, but it was yet another step towards isolating him, and no matter the intention, it still hurt to know he may never know them truly.

They could die in his service, nameless, and it would break his heart.

He crossed the threshold of the castle and made a beeline for his room. He had lessons in magic later today; even when his parents were away, he couldn’t lounge about like he’d hoped, so he rushed off to get changed out of his clothes and get ready. Being taught like a child at the age of twenty was a touch demeaning, but learning magic was fascinating, so he would just grin and bear it.

Besides, he’d be seeing Erik tomorrow. That was something to look forward to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Erik really is one of a kind, whether or not thats a good thing, not sure. Also, the inspiration for Elian's bodyguards comes from my fav WoW character and his trusted agents, I've always loved the idea of it c: Thanks to everyone who's commented and left kudos so far, I appreciate it so much!


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